Christmas
by Lauren the Oxymoron
Summary: Will and Elizabeth both get a surprise on Christmas morning.
1. Will

Disclaimer: I don't own them. It's a shocker, I know.

A/N- Well, this was SUPPOSED to be a drabble. But, well... it's WELL over the 500 word max or whatever the limit was. It's more in the one thousand word range. And then I thought it would be cool if this was a two part drabble, Will's point of view, and then Elizabeth's. So it sort of expanded into a two thousand word story... oh well, I liked the idea. The word was Christmas. Oh, and I realize that a blacksmith would never make jewelry besides possibly rings, much less lockets... but this is fanfiction, and if you are really expect the story to be that accurate... well, then you are in the wrong place.

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Christmas

William Turner hated Christmas.

Even before his mother died it had been an awkward and uncomfortable experience for the young boy. His mother would smile thinly at her son as he woke up, handing him his breakfast -- eggs, fresh bread and beans -- much larger portions and more extravagant food then normally eaten. They would then go to Mass at the church, standing in back with all the other peasants and those who couldn't afford a pew. Upon returning home, each exchanged their gift, thanking one another as if it was all they wanted. Then they would sing carols together, Will taking the harmony and his mother the melody. After these usual traditions had been performed, the two would spend the day together. Will would help his mother in the garden, and she would take him down the sea to play in the waves. At night, they would share a cup of eggnog and then bid each other goodnight. Both had work to do early the next morning. It wasn't uncomfortable because they were poor, living only on his pittance of a blacksmith apprentice's wage and hers of a maid. It was more because the whole production seemed empty, they were going through the motions of the holiday for the benefit of the other. The most hallowed of days was hollow for Will and his mother and only served as further reminder of Will's father's abandonment and the hole it had ripped in their family. Both Will and his mother would have happily not gone through the tired routine of Christmas, but were under the impression that the other enjoyed it. So it continued for years.

But now she was dead, and Will only had Mr. Brown and his job at the shop. Christmas became just like every other day for him. While most of Port Royal stopped to celebrate and indulge, Will worked. Although many looked at him sympathetically when he took a break for Mass, his hands sooty and face smudged, he preferred spending Christmas in his own lonely way.

This year promised to be no different. Governor Swann had asked him to make a last minute gift. It was for his daughter Elizabeth -- a locket, a simple enough of a job. Still, he labored over it for hours throughout the night, his own private Christmas vigil. This wasn't just a locket, it was for Elizabeth. And for Elizabeth, he was willing to dedicate the extra attention and hours the project needed. Instead of making the simple, heavy necklace as he usually did when someone requested a locket, hers was more delicate and feminine. He carefully etched an intricate E on the face of the small golden heart. The chain he used was small and dainty, so the attention would be focused on the pendant.

As the sun was beginning to peek into the small valley Port Royal was tucked in, dissipating the dew that fell with Will's sweat in the night, Will was tying a bow on the slender box he had placed the necklace in. His hands were too rough and clumsy to tie the bow attractively, but it would have to do.

Mr. Brown entered into the workroom from his sleeping quarters. His eyes were glazed and he was sweating profusely from the spirits the night before. Splashing water over his dirty and drunken face, Mr. Brown finally became aware of his apprentice.

"I was finishing the order from Governor Swann," Will explained. Choking over his tongue he added: "I was thinking I could run it up to his mansion now."

In a rare moment of interest (and almost-sobriety) Mr. Brown chuckled, "You _would_ want to run it up to the mansion. Anything to get a glance at that Elizabeth."

Will averted his boss's eyes, suddenly finding his shoes to be more interesting as his cheeks burned from Mr. Brown's light teasing. He cleared his throat, picking his words carefully, "Well, I'm off to do that then. I should be back in the half hour."

He quickly ducked out into the deserted streets, cheeks blazing as he heard Brown give another shout of laughter. Reverently handling the small box, he headed up the hill to the Governor's estate.

He was led into the foyer by a manservant when he finally reached the sprawling house. There was a flurry of excitement as the last minute preparations for Christmas morning were being placed.

"Mr. Turner!" Governor Swann said from behind, catching Will by surprise.

Will turned to the aged man, bowed from the neck and handed him the box.

"Oh, I can't thank you enough for this, Mr. Turner. I only just remembered that Elizabeth was quite fond of her mother's locket as a child. No one quite knows where it ended up after her death, but I thought Elizabeth would still appreciate this gift."

"I was glad to make it. It was no trouble at all," he replied automatically. He hadn't really listened to the man's reminiscences, he was too distracted as he scanned all of the faces that were passing by, hoping to see hers.

"Yes. Well, thank you," the Governor said making it clear that Will should leave. He turned on his heel to place the gift under a tree bursting with presents, no doubt.

Will also turned to leave. Just before he reached the door, disappointed that he hadn't been able to see Elizabeth, he heard her sweet, clear voice.

"Will!"

Turning under the doorframe, he saw her rushing towards him, a large smile brightening her features. He smiled broadly in return.

"Miss Swann," he said bowing to her, his face losing his smile as he remembered that his place as peasant supplanted their friendship.

Her smile faded when she saw his formality and she stopped short of him. Will wished that he could erase the precedence and greet her warmly, just to see her smile again.

"Why are you here, Will?" she asked him, not to be rude, but out of curiosity. The question would have been seen as improper, but Will just loved her all the more for it. Obviously Elizabeth didn't have as hard of a time throwing aside protocol.

"Just delivering something for your father," he explained.

She nodded, and they stood beneath the arching doorway in silence.

"Well, Merry Christmas, Miss Swann," Will said, nodding to her again. He could have very well stayed with her beneath the door all day, but he couldn't detain her.

"Merry Christmas, Will," she replied, and catching him by surprise, she leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips.

He looked at her in confusion, and she pointed up at the doorframe. Mistletoe.

As Will walked back down the smithy, he couldn't keep from smiling.

Maybe Christmas wasn't all that bad, he decided.


	2. Elizabeth

A/N: You are halfway there. This is Elizabeth's point of view. I personally like Will's better, it made more sense to me. That's probably because I knew exactly what I was going to do with his part of the story when I sat down to write it. But then I thought of doing it from Elizabeth's point of view, and well... this is what became of that idea. Basically, I had no idea what I was doing with the story into I got the end. I hope you like it, and that Elizabeth's reactions make sense. Let me know.

Oh, I see Will and Elizabeth as being about seventeen-ish, if anyone is curious as to when this is supposed to take place.

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Elizabeth Swann loved Christmas.

The excitement, the smells, the food, the family, the presents. But most of all she loved the feeling that permeated the house on Christmas morning, wrapped around her in her bed, and spread throughout all her body. The warmth of Christmas, the warmth of being loved, and the warmth of knowing that in this tumultuous world, Christmas was always the same. Her life had changed drastically early in her life with the death of her mother, but come Christmas morning she still woke up with the smell of fresh baked Christmas cake; a huge tree in the corner of the living room, presents spilling from beneath it, tokens of her father's and grandparents' love; the heavy oak table groaning beneath the weight of coffee cakes, eggs, flour dusted bread, sweetmeats, cheese, wine, beer, so much food Elizabeth's eyes and stomach couldn't take them all in. The stability in these traditions comforted Elizabeth more than the presents and food and other indulgences themselves.

As Elizabeth woke up on this Christmas morning, she knew that it would be no different. The warm honey smell of Christmas cake danced in her nose, the sounds of family and help bustling singing in her ears. Excitement gripped at Elizabeth, and she quickly bounded out of bed. She found a new dress lying across the foot of the bed, courtesy of her father. Grinning broadly, she called her maid to help her get changed.

"Did Hannah make those sugar cookies, Estrella?" Elizabeth asked as her maid laced up her dress.

"I'm sure she did, Miss. She has every year since you first discovered that you like them," Estrella replied, sounding a little disgruntled.

Elizabeth's smile grew as her mouth watered in anticipation. Estrella pulled on the laces of Elizabeth's dress, tying them in their usual criss-cross pattern. Finishing, Elizabeth went to the mirror to admire the way the dress accented her newly rounded figure.

"You look lovely, Miss," Estrella said.

Elizabeth smiled to herself, and then turned to see Estrella straightening her bed sheets.

"You don't need to do that, Strella. It's Christmas, no one should be working on a day like today!" Elizabeth said scandalously.

"I have to work on Christmas, Miss. How else will my family survive?"

She walked down the stairs to the cheerful living room in a suddenly somber mood. The cook was setting all of the different dishes on the table, the maid was doing a last quick sweep of the room, the butler was helping a servant with stringing some tinsel on the higher branches of the tree. They were all buzzing as the worked fervently, trying to get everything in place for the Swann's Christmas before they went home to celebrate in their own. It made Elizabeth angry that they all had to work on this magical morning for her own enjoyment. She was feeling slightly selfish when the butler turned and smiled at her.

"There you are, Elizabeth. How does the tree look?" he asked her.

"Beautifully," she answered, guilt gnawing away at her mind. If she had found something wrong with it, it would have been quickly amended. "Don't you have children, Bernerd?" she asked the man, although he was hardly surprised. Such questions were common from the inquisitive girl.

"Yes, Miss Elizabeth. I have a daughter," he answered her with a smile.

"Don't you feel bad that you aren't home with her on Christmas morning?" she asked him, feeling more self-centered by the moment.

Smiling kindly at her, he said, "I am."

Elizabeth blushed, but felt slightly better. "Do you know where father is?" Elizabeth asked him, trying to shift her embarrassment.

"In the foyer with Mr. Turner, I believe."

"Will is here?" Elizabeth said, all of her guilt and embarrassment washed away with that one statement. She turned and ran to the foyer.

"Will!" she called, catching him just as he was about to leave. He turned, and smiled at her. She walked over to him, smiling broadly. She was about to throw her arms around him when she saw his smile falter and his head bow.

"Miss Swann," he said, only respect that one would give to the Queen in his voice, not the warm familiarity she had hoped for.

She stopped abruptly, taken aback by his cool manner. Suddenly, it was hard for her to swallow.

"Why are you here, Will?" she asked. Although she was happy to see him, a visit from him was rare.

"Just delivering something for your father," he answered. A dawning sense of dread fanning throughout her body. He too was working on Christmas morning for her sake.

She nodded, swallowing and breathing becoming very difficult for her.

"Well, Merry Christmas, Miss Swann," Will said, giving her another bow. She wanted to hit him for that. She didn't want to be Miss Swann, especially not to him. She was just Elizabeth, no more special than anyone else.

"Merry Christmas, Will," she answered softly. She leaned forward and pressed a small kiss on his surprised lips, the only way she knew how to say _See, I'm no different, Will. Don't be scared of me._

When she was met with a confused look, she pointed up at the mistletoe hanging over their heads, the mistletoe that had hung there every year. It was just an excuse though, a convenient lie to hide what she was longing to say.

The rest of the day, Elizabeth was in a despondent mood. Why must everyone treat her like she was a piece of china, pretty to look at but unable to touch? When would he realize that he was good enough for her?

She had made her way through the large pile of presents that had been heaped upon her, only a slender box with a clumsy bow was left. She slid the bow off and opened the box. Inside was a delicate locket. She pulled it out of the box, the heart was heavy and cool against her hand. She knew immediately it was what Will had delivered to her father. Squeezing it in her hand, she felt the weight inside her lessen.

He knew.


End file.
